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^^^Vo ^lays Gxckanged 



BAKER'S EDITION 



A CLOSE SHAVE 



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A Close Shave 

A Farce in One Act 



By 
GEORGE M. BAKER 

Author of over one hundred popular plays nu 
eluding • 'Among the Breakers, ' ' ''Rebeccas 
Triumph;' "Thirty Minutes for Re- 
freshments," ' etc. 



Copyright, 1868, by George M. Baker 

(The Mimic Stage) 

Copyright, 1896, by Emily F. Baker 

(In Renewal) 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
1920 



o^'\ 






A CLOSE SHAVE. 

A FARCE. 



CHABACTERS. 



s 
Obustt (a man of means, generally considered a 
TowsoR (a barber). 
McGiNNis (his assistant). 
Zbb (a colored apprentice). 
Hbavtfacb (a hypochondriac). 
Simper (an exquisite). 

Scene. — Tonsor^s harher-shop. Two barber's chairs^ 
C, facing audience. Table^ L., with two hand-mirron 
upon it. Table, r., with razors, strop, shaving-cups, towels, 
&c. McGiNNis discovered dusting. 

McOinnis. Now, isn't this illigant ! It's a moighty foine 
lift I have in the worrld, onyhow. Mike McGinnis, 
who's curried the horse and fed the pig, toted the hod 
and tinded the cows, promoted to the illigant position 
of a man-shaver 1 Oh ! be jabbers, it's moighty foine in- 
tirely, — what much I know ov it, and that's moighty 
litrie Faith, when Mr. Tonsor's assistant was took 
wid the faver, it was at his wit's ends he was intirely. 
Sez he to me, sez he, — for it's always moighty 
fond he was of me whin I lived wid his father, -- 
*' Mike,'* sez h^, " did iver yer shave?" — ''Is it u^ 
62 



A CLOSE SBATB. 63 

•elf? " says I : " faith, yes, — wid a pair of scissors." 

** No, no I " sez he : " did ever yer shave anybody? ** 
" Faith, yes," sez I — " the pig." — " Oh, murther 1 " says 
he : "I mane a man." — " Niver a wun," sez I ; " but I 
could soon learn." And so he took me in here to learn 
the business ; but it's precious little Tm learning, for the 
uashter does all the shaving : but the time must come, 
and then look out for yoursilf, Mike McGinnis. (Enter 
Tonsor, r.) 

Ton. Ah, Mike I Brushing up ? That's good. I do 
like to see a busy man. Where's Zeb ? 

Mike. Faith, I don't know. It's moighty little he's 
shown of his face at all, at all. 

Ton. The lazy scamp ! that's just like him. No doubt 
he's down at the Corners dancing jigs, or turning flip- 
flaps for coppers. 

^ke ^*>ix. that'o what yer might call turning an 
Donest penny i 

Ton. Any customers this morning, Mike ? 

JBtnke. Sorra a wun. 

Ton. It's a little early. They'll soon be dropping 
ij. Heigho, Mike ! was you ever in love ? 

Mike. Ah ! away wid yer, now ! Ask an Irishman 
such a silly question as that ! Musha, it's nearly kilt 
I am wid the love of Nora Honey. Ah I but the ould 
man's got rich peddling panuts. 

Ton. A rich father, who does not encourage your 
attentions ! 

Mike, Sorra a bit. " Mike," sez he, — and it's moighty 
winning he is in his way, — "the front uv my door is il- 
ligautly punte/ on the outside, — much finer than tb« 



^ A CLOSE 6HATE. 

inside ; and you'd do well to examine it whin you'rt 
passing by, — whin you're passing by, mind." 

Ton. Meaning, " I won't turn you out, but you can't 
. stay here." 

Mke. That's jest what he meant. Faith, it's . , 
posted yez are in the trials and tribulations uv the tind«r 
passion. 

Ton. Yes, Mike ;" I can sympathize with you. I'm 
desperately in love myself. 

Mike. You ? 

Ton. Yes, and with the daughter of a rich man, and 
my love is returned. Ah, Mike ! she is the paragon of 
loveliness ! — the otto of roses I — the pink of purity. 

Mike. The shaving-cream uv perfiction, and the hair- 
oil uv illigance! Oh, murther I they're all alike till 
they find you've no money. 

Ton. Ah ! but she's entirely different, Mike. She is 
willing — nay, anxious — to share my humble fortunes. 
'Tis I who dread to take her from all the rich comforts 
<ihe has enjoyed, and ask her to share — 

Mike. Love in a cottage, wid bacon and greens I 
Faith, you're right: it's a mighty foine picter, but hard 
of digestion. What says the ould gintleman? 

Ton. He knows nothing about it. 

Mike. And yer haven't asked his consint? 

Ton. No : it would be useless. He has declared his 
daughter shall marry only a rich man ; that he will not 
let her walk, ride, or receive the visits of any young 
man ; that he will cut her off with a shilling should sh« 
marry without his consent, 

Mike, The taring ould heathin I 



A CLOSE SHAVE. 65 

2'<»i He is encouraging the attentions of young Sim- 
per, w ;om the young lady detests, and whom he only 
tolera.i ^ because he has a rich father. 

Mih , The miserable ould varmint ! But who ia 
he? 

Tor*^ One of my customers, — old Jotham Crusty. 

Alikt What ! that ould skinflint ? His consint? It's 
precious little he'd give onyhow. 

Zeh, (Outside, r.) Ain't yer 'shamed yerself, yer 
great, overgrown ? Fie ! — for shame ! Yer ought to be 
redicleish I 

Ton. Hallo 1 here's Zeb. What's the matter now? 
(Enter Zeb, r., shaking his head and fighting imaginary 
foes outside.) Where have you been? and what is the 
matter ? 

Zeb. Yes, well, I guess — Who-o-o-*s a nigger? 
Who — who's a nigger ? Dar ain't no niggers now : 
didn't de prancepation krocklemation make 'em white 
folks, hey? 

Ton. Here, what's the matter? 

Zeh. Yes, well, I guess — a parcel of ignumramuses 
a-yellin' and a-shoutin' as ef dey nebber seed a tanned 
man afore. What does de Declamation of Indempen- 
dence say, — hey? 

Ton. No matter what it says. You just take off youi 
jacket and go to work, or you'll find out what a tanned 
man is. (Zeb takes off his jacket, b.) 

Mike. Faith, Zeb, it's plaguing uv yea the h*ja 
have been. 

Zeb. Yes, well I guess — Who'f a nigger? what 
does the Constitution say, — hej? 



66 A CLOSE SHATB. 

Ton. Look here, Zeb I if you open your mouth 
igain, it won't be healthy for your constitution. 

Zeb, Yes, >vell, I guess ! — 

Ton. Shut up quick, and hone those razors ! (Zeb goes 
to tahle^ R.) We've had just enough of your talk. 
(Enter Crusty, r.) 

Crusty. Oh I you're here, are you ? Pretty time this ii 
to get your place open, — ain't it ? You forget it's the 
early bird that catches the worm. 

Zeh. Worms? worms? Going a-fishing, Massa 
Crusty. 

Ton. You Zeb ! — 

Zeh. "By golly, I know where 'em are 1 — flounders as 
big as a slab ; and eels, golly, — what whoppers I 

Ton. Shut up, and mind your business ! Yes, Mr. 
Crusty ; first chance for you this morning. 

Crusty, Yes, I should think so ! I tell you what, 
Tonsor, you don't go to work right to make a fortune. 
Do as I did, — early to bed, and early up in the morning. 
You live too fast : you should sober down. Why don't 
you get married ? 

Ton. Ah, Mr. Crusty, that's the very thing I would 
like to do. A nice little wife, a nice home, every thin^ 
comfortable, — ah, sir I a man must be happy. 

Crusty. Of course he must, and make money too. 
Why don't you try it ? There's plenty of girls about here 
anxious to get a husband. 

Ton. I know that, sir ; but I've already made my 
choice. 

Crusty. Oh I you have ? Then why don't you get mar- 
ried, have a little comfort, and not poke along in thi^ wa/, 



A CLOSE SHAVE. 67 

with no company but a thick-headed Irishman and a 
ball of blacking ? 

Mike. Faith, it's mighty complimentary is the ould 
gint, onyhow. 

Zeh. Yes, well I guess! Ball of blacking, — black- 
ing ! What does the Declamation — 

Ton. Shut up, Zeb ! 

Crusty. Say, Tonsor, why don't you get married ? 

Ton. Well, sir, you see, sir — 
. Crusty. Oh, bother ! why don't you speak out ? 

Mike. Faith, Mr. Crusty, I'll be afther telling uv 
yez : it's mighty bashful is the masther. Ye say, sir, 
it's all along uv the young lady's father. 

Crusty. Well, what of him ? 

Mike. Ye say, sir, he's wealthy and concaited, and 
manes the daughter shall niver marry anybody but a 
rich man. 

Crusty. Not when such a likely young man as Ton- 
sor offers ? The mean old scamp ! 

Mike. That's thrue for yez, sir. He won't let her go 
wid a young man, or have a young man come uv court- 
in' her. 

Crusty. The miserable old scoundrel ! 

Mike. And swears by all that's blue that he'll cut her 
off widout a shilling if she marries widout his consent. 

Crusty. The miserly old vagabond ! Look here, Ton- 
sor, you must marry this girl directly. 

Ton. Marry her ! 

Crusty. Marry her? — yes! Confound you! don't 
you want to ? 

Ton. But her father — 



68 A CLOSE SflATE. 

Gi-usty, Who cares for him ? The mean old scamp ! 
Td like to play him a trick, and I will too. Here, you 
just take my chaise, — it's at the door, — get the young 
lady, go down to Hobson, get a license, and then be Dff 
to Parson Sanborn, and get married at once. 

Ton, But, Mr. Crusty, her father will not consent 
to this. 

Crusty. Confound her father I Who cares for him or 
his consent ? I give mine, and that is enough. Tm the 
richest man in the place ; and, if anybody complains, lot 
'em sue me for damages. I won't have such a confounded 
mean old cuss — 

Ton. Take care, Mr. Crusty I 

Crusty. — tomer in town ! 

Ton. You will back me in this ? 

Crusty. Back you ? — of course I will I Do you sup- 
pose I'll stand by and see youth and honesty and worth 
given the go-by, by an old, mean — 

Ton. Don't, Mr. Crusty, — don't call him names. 

Crusty. Here, I'll give you a note to Parson Sanborn, 
and another for old Hobson. They'll help you along. 
I'll tell the parson to tie the knot strong. {Ooes to table^ 
K.) A mean, contemptible scamp ! 

Zeb. By golly, the old man's crazy sure for sartain I 
See him eyes roll ! 

Ton. Mike, I've a great mind to take the old man at 
his word. 

Mike. If yer don't, yer a goose. He gives his con. 
aent, and ye'U have it in writin*, too. Go it, honey ! 

Crusty. There you are : there's a note for the parson, 
tod another for old Hobdon. Give my regards to tht 



A CLOSE SHAYE. 69 

lady, aud tell her she's a goose if she misses such ■ 
chance of getting a husband. 

Ton. Thank you, Mr. Crusty. I'll be off at once, 
Mike, you look after the shop. Don't let old Crusty out 
of here for half an hour, mind. 

Crusty. Come, come ! I want that horse and chaise 
in half an hour. 

Ton. All right, sir. I'll be back before then. 
Mike, give the old gentleman a shave. Good-by 1 I'm 
off. {Exit, R.) 

Mike. Good luck to yez I Here's an old shoe for 
luck. (TJirows a shoe off, R., which hits Zeb in head.) 

Zeb. Stop, yer fool — will yer ? By golly, you almos' 
broke ray jaw 1 

Mike. Faith, if I had, 'twould been a savin' for the 
shop. 

Crusty. The young man's off. Good joke on the girl's 
father ! Well, it won't cost me any thing ; so I can afford 
to give my consent. (Takes off handkerchief aiid dicky.) 
Now, my man, I'll trouble you for a shave. 

Mike. A shave ! {Aside.) Oh,murtherI how could 
I go to work to shave this ould rhinoceros? 

Crusty. Come, be lively ! I want to get out of this at 
once. I'm wanted at the house. 

Mike. Oh, murther and Irish! at the house is it? 
{Aside.) Faith, that *11 niver do. {Aloud.) Here, si{ 
down here, sir. 

Crusty, {Sita in chair, R. c.) A close shave, mind I 

Mike. A close shave is it? {Aside.) By the blissed 
8t. Patrick, what's that? {Enter Simper, b.) 

Simper. Now, weally,* tis disgustingly vulgaw, - - it ii 



to A CLOSE SHAYE 

weally, — the ideah of a wefined geDtlemau being com- 
pelled to entaw such a howid place, to have his chin 
shaved, and his >^ hiskaws twimmed : it is weallj ! 

Mike, Your turn next, sir : take a seat. 

Simper. My turn next? Do you weally mean to saj 
that I must wait? Aw ! 

Mike. Faith, honey, you must : there's niver a wun 
to shave you at all, at all I 

Simper. But I can't wait, — I can't weally. I have 
a pwessing engagement. A dear, delightful cweecher is 
fondly waiting my coming, — she is weally. 

Crusty. (Aside.) Then all I've got to say, she's got 
a job. Here, you slow coach I am I never to have a 
shave ? 

Mike. In a minit, sir: the wather's could. {Puti 
wrappers, towel, d;c., round him.) 

Simper. Yes, weally, you must attend to me. The 
dear cweecher will die : I know she will. 

Crusty. Then let her die, or shave yourself! 

Mike. Faith, sir, I can't help it. Oh, murther I that's 
Zeb. It's high time he had his hand in. Here, Zeb I 
shave that gintleman. 

Zeb. What dat you say, hay ? 

Mike. Oh, bother ! Shave that gintleman. 

Zeb. Shabe him, — shabe him? me shabe him? By 
golly! in coose, — in coose ! (Jb Simpeb.) Dar's de 
cheer. Hist yerself, — hist yerself ! 

Simper, Do what? 

Zeb. Hist yerself, honey ! Discompose yerself io 
dat are cheer. 

Simper. Now, weally, the ideah of placing myself in 



A CLOSE SHAYE. 7* 

the hands of such a howible cweecher ! It*s too bad, — 
it is weally. (Sits in chair , (S)c. 'Lea puts wrapper and 
towel about him.) 

Simper, Now, Mr. Bawbaw. 

Zeb, Mr. Which? 

Simper, Use despatch. 

Zeb, Yes, well, I guess not ; we use razors hea, w« 
do. 

Crusty. Come, come, hurry up. 

JUike. Yes, sir, iatirely, sir. (Lathers him. Zeb lathert 
Simper, putting it plentifully in his mouth.) 

Simper. Ph — ph — ph — ! deuse take you ; do you 
want to choke me with your nasty soap ? 

Zeb, Yes, well, I guess not. It's jest as wholesome &s 
flap-jacks and sirup. (To Mike.) I've got him lathered : 
what will I do with him now ? 

Mike. Do, you spalpeen ? — do wid him as I do wid 
de o^Aer chap. (Takes the razor.) Now for my first 
attimpt at shaving. Blessed St. Patrick, befrind rae, or 
I be afthir cuttin* his wizen. 

Zeb. (Goes to table, taking razor.) I'm to do as Mikti 
does : golly, I kin do dat jist. (During the next speeches 
he runs between the two chairs, watching Mike, and shav- 
ing Simper.) 

Simper. Now, bawbaw, do your neatest ; for, in a 
few minutes, I shall be at the feet of a divine cweecher. 

Zeh Screecher ! does she play on de banjo too. 

Simpet\ Be careful now, don't destwoy the symmetwy 
of my whiskaws. 

Zeb, (aside). Sim — sim — aim — what am dat! 
By golly, Mike's taking de whiskers off dat chap ot 
hU'en. 



72 



A CLOSE 8HATB. 



Simper. I say, bawbaw : in a few minutes I shall 
thwow myself at the feet of this divine cweecher ; and I 
shall say — 

Crusty, Confound you, stupid, you've cut me — 

Mike. Oh, murder I it was the razor. Bedad, I wish 
I was well out of this. 

Simper. Oh ! — murder I — murder I you've cut me 
hawwibly I 

Zeh. By golly, so I has. (Aside.) Must do jes as 
Mike does. 

Simper. Be careful, bawbaw : don't spoil my com- 
plexion ; for it would be hawwible to meet my chawmew, 
the divine Kate Cwusty, with a howwid cut. 

Crusty. Kate ! this must be Simper. (Crusty and 
Simper having their heads back in the chairs are supposed 
not to see each other.) 

Simper. Yes, bawbaw, the rich Miss Kate Cwusty. 
Her fathaw's immensely wich, — a gay old boy, who likes 
to save his money ; but we'll teach him better when we 
are mawwied. 

Crusty. {Aside.) Will you ? confound you I weT 
see about that. 

Simper. Bawbaw, be a little more gentle, if you 
please ; handle my ambwosials very carefully. 

Zeh. Ambrose who ? Ambrose ! by golly, I used 
to know an Ambrose down Souf, — a molasses-darkey, 
about your complex — 

Simper. Why, you, bawbaw, do you mean to comr 
oare me to a negwo ? 

Zeh. Molasses-color, molasses-color I dat's all 

Simper, Why, you infuwnal nigg •— 



A CLOSE 8HAYB. 73 

Zeb, Hey 1 what's dat you call? Hey I what's dat, 
irhatdeit's the Constitution say. Hey ! (flourishing razor,) 

Simper. Good gwacious I put down that wazor I 

Zeb. What did the 'mancipation krocklamation do, 
hey? (Flourishing razor.) 

Simper. Dear me ! will you put down that wazor ? 

Zeb. Nigah ! by golly, if you ain't dark complexed 
yourself I'd — I'd — 

Simper. Help ! murdew I put down that wazor \ 

Mike. Faith, Zeb, if yer not quiet, out yer go. 

Zeb. Ob course, ob course 1 what's the dec — 

Mike. Oh ! whist wid yer blarney, and shave th« 
man. 

Crusty. Come, come, hurry up : will you never get 
ihrough ? 

Mike. In a minute : aisy, aisy, sir ! (Enter Heatt- 

/ACE.) 

Heavy. Oh, yes ! of course : all full, just as I 
expected ! That's the way the world over : there's noth- 
ing but disappointment ; every thing goes against me. 

Alike. Your turn next, sir. 

Heavy. Now, I suppose you call that consolation. I 
te^ you the world is all going wrong ; there's nothing but 
mi-'ery and deceit in it. (Takes a chair ^ and seats himself 
betveen the two barber's chairs.) A man's got no real 
friepds in this world : your riches are deceitful, your 
dearest friend may be your foe. Now, I suppose you 
cwo chaps feel perfectly comfortable in those chairs, with 
a pair of grinning fiends standing over you with razors, 
ready ai ^-he slightest provocation to plunge them ia youl 
throAts. 



74 A CLOSE SHATB. 

Simper. Oh, hawaws I i 

Crusty. What do you mean? ] ^^9^^ri*ing «p. 

Mike, (Pushing back Crusty.) Aisy, now, honej : iCt 
all right ; don't ^ s timorous. 

Zeb, (Pw'Ang back Simper.) It's all right, alj 
right ! don* be timbertoed. 

Heavy. Oh, yes ! of course they say it's all right, 
and you believe them ; but I tell you it's all wron<» : 
wickedness and deceit are hid beneath the most smiling 
faces. I've heard horrible stories of barbers : they hav€ 
been known to murder their customers in their chairs. 

Crusty. \ q. .- ( Goodness, gracious I 

Simper. > ^^ ^^^ ^^' \ Oh, hawwible I 

Mike. Now, do be aisy : I'll finish you directly. 

Crusty. No, you won't ! I object to being finished 
by you. Put down that razor : I've had quite enough. 
You've been long enough on my face to plough an acm 
of land. 

Mike. {Aside.) Faith ! it's about as tough a job, - 
but I haven't finished. 

Crusty. Well, then, you shan't ; wipe my face ! quick' 
quick, do you hear? (Mike wipes face.) 

Simper. Bawbaw, I've had quite enough : wipe my 
face, and give me a mirraw. (Zeb wipes face.) 

Zeb. All right, massa I all right I 

Heavy. Quite enough! I should think you had J 
Men generally do get enough in this world of misery ! 
nothing but misery! We're all going to the bad. 
There's that barber, Tonsor, instead of attending to his 
customers, he is off on a spree. I met him with a young 
wroman, and I'll bet he's off to get married He's boand 
for perdition. 



A CLOSE SHAYB. 75 

Crusty Goad, good, good ! 

Heavy, Good ! suppose he's run off with Bomebodj'i 
laughter I 

Crusty. I know he has I 

Heavy, You know he has ? You are a pretty man, — 
jrou are ! perhaps you aided and abetted him. How 
should you like it if it was your daughter, instead of old 
Crusty's ? 

Crusty. (^Starting up.) My daughter? 

Simper. Old Cwusty's daughtaw? 

( They hath start up^ and speak together. Crusty ha» 
one side of face shaved clean of whiskers^ the other 
untouched. Simper has one of his whiskers and half 
of his mustache gone / they sit^ and look at each other, 
Heavyface between^ Zeb, l., and Mike, r.) 

Heavy. Well, you're a pair of beauties, — you are I 

Simper. Old Cwusty here — as I'm alive ! it's all up 
with me. (Zeb hands him mirror.) 

Crusty. My daughter ! I see it all ! What a con- 
founded fool I've been ! gone and helped that Tonsor to 
run off with my daughter. It's horrible I I shall be 
the laughing-stock of the whole village ! 

Simper. (^Looking in mirror.) Good gwacious ! hor- 
wible ! what do I see ! my whiskaws and my beautiful 
mustache totally wuined I totally wuined ! 

Crusty, After all the money I have spent for ler 
education ! 

Simper. Good gwacious I after all the hair-oil ^W4 
poured ovaw them ! 

Crusty. The masters I've given her I 

Simper. The care I've bestowed upon then I 



76 A CLOSE BHATl 

Ofutty, Every accomplishment has been given her t 

Simper. They Ve been twimmed and curled day aflew 
day I 

Crusty. And to lose her thus I It's too bad I 

Simper, And to be shorn and mangled thus I It*! 
hawwible I 

Crusty. (Sees his face in the gkus.) What's this? 
my whiskers gone I O you idiot I you infernal 
scoundrel, what have you done ? 

Mke. Faith, it's the bist I could do i it's mighty 
little I'm acquainted round here. 

Grusty. I'll teaeh you to mangle me in that way, you 
scoundrel I (Huns after Mike, who gets under table ^ l.) 

Mike. Aisy, Mr. Crusty : yer wanted a close shave • 
and, 'pon my word, I'd a 'gin it to yer if you'd waited I 

Zeh. By golly I Mike's under de table. Well, I guesi 
/ better look out for squalls. (Oets under table, b.) 

Simper. Where's that liorrid bawbaw? (Sees Zbi 
under table, b.) The scoundwel I you black imp I — 

Zeb. Hold yer hush I hold you hush I what doua thd 
Declamation — 

Grusty. Come out of that, or I break the table abom 
your head. 

Mke. If you plaze, Mr. Crusty, Td rather stop 
here. (Enter Tonsob, l.) 

Gi^sty. Oh I you're back, — are you ? Now, you vil 
/ain, what do you mean by running off with my daugk- 
^er? 

Ton. I beg your pardon, sir ; but I couldn't help It 
I was tempted. 

Crusty. Tempted by who? 



A CLOSE 8HATE. 77 

Ton. The writer of this note (reads). " Dear Parson. 
Marry this couple quickly, and marry them strong. The 
young man is worthy of any young lady in the place 
The father of the lady, an ugly old scamp, objects ; but 
I'll give my consent and will pay all damages. Yours, 
Jotham Crusty." These were my instructions, which 
1 have carefully obeyed. I've brought back your chaise; 
and you'll find my wife in it ready to thank her dear 
father for his thoughtful attention in giving her the 
husband of her choice. 

Heavy. ( Who has taken barber's chair vacated hv 
Crusty.) Crusty, you are slightly done. 

Crusty. Oh, yes ! this is nuts for you, you sour old 
hypochondriac. You think you are going to crow over 
me ; but you shan't. I've lost a daughter, but Tve fbuno 
a son. Here, Tonsor, here's my hand : the old man^s 
sold, and must own up. Sell out this business, shut up 
ehop, and come home. 

Ton. Thank you ! 1*11 sell at once. Here's Mike j 
he shall have it. 

Crusty. He ! why, look at my face I 

Ton. We'll set him up in business with Zeb. 

Simper. That horrid bawbaw I look at my ambwa 
sials. 

Mike. Faix I I go into business wid dat black s&u 
of Africa? 

Zeb. Hold yer hush I hold yer hush ! dare's no braciu 
now. What doz the Declamation of Indecenr pendenc* 
say? 

Ton. No matter what it says : you shall have tht 
business. So, after thanking all here for their kin<? V' 



78 A CL08R BH17E. 

teLtioa to my basioetis while away, I will retire, a« 
Musre is oi ly one tliicg I requiio, — Uyr kiud plauditd 

Crusty, Hold oa, J'ousor: iheie'.-i tomothiag else. 
Here's Simper: he's lost a wife aa«i half his whiskers; 
I've lost a daughter acd half mine; .so I'h take the chair. 

Heavy. Hold on I hold ou ! it' } my turn next I 

Grusty. Why, you've just been railing at barbers 
and razors and the wicked ne.'s of the world: will you 
put yourself in their hacds? 

Heavy. To be sure 1 will. We're all going to tht 
bad. I'm reconciled, and tley can't hurt lae. 

Crusty, Well, he.ve your taru; anl, after you gel 
vljrough, I'll see if I can't bavi what I came here for. 

!ZW What was I hat, falbei in-law? 

Oru fty, A cle{ a f b a v< . 

Ii;8P»)Sr3MI 01 CClARACffBM. 

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2 BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass. 





A^ 



